


what good is the kingdom (when you’re running out of breath)

by ivylynn



Category: Mean Girls (2004), Mean Girls - Richmond/Benjamin/Fey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, mentions of Regina/Aaron and Regina/Shane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 12:57:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivylynn/pseuds/ivylynn
Summary: She feels like she can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t look at anyone anymore. Counting doesn’t help, and neither does thinking of something else because Janis is still talking and she won’t stop, like rubbing it in is the only thing bringing her joy.It’s motivational, sure, but it’s also making Regina hyperventilate and feel like the room is somehow running out of air even though everyone else seems fine.





	what good is the kingdom (when you’re running out of breath)

**Author's Note:**

> this is pre-canon, during canon and then a little post-canon. some divergence from the original plot present.

Nothing is really meant to turn out the way it does.

North Shore seems like it's prime place to derail every semblance of a plan one might have for their future, their friendships, their relationships. It's the source of a lot of drama in lives of people who've never wanted anything to do with it.

To be completely fair, Regina George is in the middle of it all.

And she loves it.

     -  -

She burns bridges faster than she can meet someone new, and ends up with two friends and too many followers to count. Everyone _wants_ to be her friend; she doesn't let them. There's no use for them, really. Gretchen and Karen are quite enough to satisfy her needs, and others could potentially be damaging to her reputation.

After all, isn't that what she strives for? She doesn't attribute a lot of things to her father, but this _is_ one of them.

"Machiavelli once said that ' _it is better to be feared than loved, if you cannot be both_ '. Remember that," he tells her one day when she's eight and too young to hear it. Easily influenced but not yet comprehending the words, Regina nods and smiles wide at him.

He's never lied to her, so there's no reason to believe he is now. She looks at him like any girl looks at their dad, like he's put the stars in the sky that night just for her. It's a mix of admiration and love that she only later realizes he doesn't even understand.

     -  -

Regina remembers the quote when he leaves. She's thirteen and he's left without a word to her, while she was at school. "It'll be fine, sweetie," her mom tells her, "He doesn't know what he'll miss."

She speaks like he'll never come back and Regina doesn't get why he wouldn't even visit. Taylor's parents have been divorced for years and she still sees both of them regularly. Two weeks pass before she hears anything about him again, and when she does, it's through eavesdropping on her mom's phone call.

"She doesn't understand why you left, Richard," her mom says. "She's just a _child_ , for goodness sake, and you're talking about her sexuality like she's even thinking about any of that."

It's clear, after that, that Regina's the one at fault for her father's leaving. Finally, she understands the quote he's told her. It's obvious what she has to do next.

     -  -

( She doesn’t feel anything when he leaves, but when she finds that out, it’s like her whole world collapses around her. It’s a strange thing, being in her room but not feeling like she’s _anywhere_ because space is unimportant in the midst of the fury of feelings she is experiencing.

The door is locked, she knows that’s what she did as soon as it slammed closed; she’s safe, in theory.

But she can’t breathe. She feels every beat of her heart so acutely that it scares her. “In and out,” she repeats like a mantra, but somehow never follows her own instructions and loses track of when she’s inhaling and when exhaling, it almost feels surreal that she can’t get a handle on what’s supposed to be a basic thing.

It’s never happened before, this panic spreading through her. Her brain tries to process every piece of information it has, a scrambled mess of everything and nothing at all, an odd combination that confuses more than it explains anything to Regina.

There’s a knock at the door that’s barely audible over her own brain, and then her mothers is knocking louder, asking, “Regina, sweetie, can you please open the door?” and that’s the furthest thing from her mind right now.

The response gets stuck in her throat more times than she can count before any words actually come out. When they do, she’s listening to herself screaming out, “Go away,” like it’s someone else saying it, an out of body experience that adds more stress on top of everything.

In the end, she’s sliding down to the floor, back against her closet door and head in her hands. Tears flow without permission, but she doesn’t really feel them coming and then lets them take over when they do. Her whole body is shaking, and the only common thread between all of those reactions to what her father thinks is that they come uninvited and she doesn’t _want_ them.

Regina just wants to breathe normally again and not feel like she has to force each breath out instead of it coming naturally. She doesn’t know how much time she spends on the floor, but by the end of it once she can finally stop actively thinking about breathing, she’s too exhausted to think about anything.

And maybe that’s for the best. Maybe sleep comes easy for a reason. )

     -  -

Her mother throws her the biggest birthday party yet because she's feeling guilty and Regina takes every advantage she can get out of it. She wants it extravagant, a pool party (of course), and she wants everyone there.

In a line of decisions she will live to regret later, the first one is calling Janis. "Hey, do you want to go to the park?" It's the one place where they've always gone alone, in desperate need to escape from whatever is troubling either of them.

Over the years – and it’s been seven, to be precise – it’s become a focal point of their friendship. They’ve had each other to rely on, and if you think about it, it’s kind of poetic Regina lets it end there.

They’ve been close, and Regina now understands that it’s too close. Janis doesn’t, definitely, because she questions Regina repeatedly when it’s supposed to be a short ordeal, so finally, Regina snaps and tells her the truth:

“Janis, I can't invite you to my pool party, because I think you're a lesbian. And I can't have a lesbian at my party 'cause there are gonna be girls there in their bathing suits. I mean, are you a lesbian? What are you?”

It comes easy to lie, Regina acknowledges. If that’s how it has to be, maybe it doesn’t matter that it hurts when she says it all. It’ll all be fine in the end.

It helps that Janis’ response is not as thought out or anywhere close to an actual rebuttal. “I am a space alien, and I have four butts!”

Still, it stings not to see Janis at her house that Sunday, feels like there’s a void to be filled by her presence only. Her dad doesn’t call, and Regina convinces herself that void is actually him not being there, nothing to do with her best friend missing.

Her mother catches her alone in the kitchen, gaze trained on the clock but attention somewhere in the clouds. “Smile, Regina, and go enjoy your party. You only turn thirteen once!”

It’s true, but not enough of an excuse to forget everything.

     -  -

Maybe that’s why when Gretchen brings up Janis, Regina decides to tell her. She alters the story in her gain, because what else can she do? She’s done with her, anyway, and there’s no need to protect her from any comments that might be false.

If there’s one thing clear in Regina’s mind, it’s that none of this is Janis’ fault. She’s the scape goat, but nothing can save Regina from the shame of it all, her own doing. Every time she sees Janis, something erupts in her stomach and she feels happy for no reason whatsoever. She figures that’s what her dad must know, and if she just doesn’t see Janis anymore, then that’s fine with her.

Friendships aren’t made to last a lifetime, she knows this. She’s ended a lot of them to know that people come and go, and none of it has impacted her until Janis. She writes it off to years of knowing each other, and doesn’t give it a second thought.

     -  -

The collateral of their so-called fight is that other people go to far. She doesn’t stop them, she couldn’t dream of it, but at least it’s not her ruining Janis’ locker or calling her names.

(Later, she’ll realize that she’s really been doing it by proxy all along, but for now, she’s satisfied in the knowledge that she’s come out on top.)

Gretchen tells her everything about what people are doing, and neither her nor Karen seem like they’re happy about it, but they don’t dare say anything to Regina. _Good_ , she thinks _, now they’re scared to go against me_.

She comes into freshman year on top of the world, and Janis doesn’t come at all. She finds out from Gretchen (obviously) that she’s in therapy. In the coming weeks, they find out it’s art therapy and Regina only comments, “God, what a _freak_ ,” so that sticks around a while. Others take it farther than she ever intends, and soon Janis is the talk of the high school like she deserves every last bit of it.

Regina’s unease about it settles somewhere around the first party she attends. They’re too young to party, but that doesn’t quite stop them. Her mother tries to talk her out of it, but Regina has set her mind up to it and won’t stop until she gets it.

     -  -

The first day of their sophomore year, Regina’s unfortunate enough to be at the entrance when Janis comes in. Her hair is hideous, clothes a travesty, but Regina still sees her and thinks she’s one of the most beautiful girls there. She scoffs at herself, but to everyone it seems like she’s doing it in reaction to Janis’ appearance, so when she walks away, she’s the real winner there.

She spends the time before first class in the bathroom, alone. She has no idea why she’s struggling to breathe, but it gets gradually worse until she starts counting aloud, focusing on the numbers instead of her breathing.

It works, miraculously, and she’s ready for classes just as the bell rings. She checks her make-up just in case, but she hasn’t really been crying even if she feels like tears are aching to fall. Like they’re supposed to, need to, desire to; she doesn’t let them.

Weakness isn’t feared.

     -  -

No one notices when Regina goes quiet in the discussions people try to lead about Janis. How she struggles to change the topic to something she’s seen and wants to buy after school, something other people are wearing that’s too ugly not to mention.

Something to get everyone to stop making her feel like she’s out of breath.

It becomes a habit to promote a topic and then let others discuss it, until one day she’s had enough of it. No one can sit at their table.

“We don’t need them,” Regina convinces Gretchen and Karen, who’ve followed her on everything she’s said so far. They have no reason to question the new rules in place, no reason at all to stand up to them. They’re still there, unless they break the rules.

Gretchen never does. Karen slips up sometimes, but soon learns that Regina is serious about the rules in place.

     -  -

Janis hangs out with Damian now, which only makes people be more ruthless towards her. He’s an openly gay kid in an unaccepting environment, and she’s… well, Regina doesn’t know _what_ she is. For all she knows, Janis is perfectly straight and enjoying the wrath of fifteen-year-olds for nothing.

Or for Regina.

Either way, she’s not helping herself by befriending a gay kid. Regina doesn’t voice that, of course—she’s not insane.

“Can you believe who she’s hanging out with? It’s like she _wants_ people to talk about her,” Gretchen says on a chilly Wednesday at lunch.

“He’s probably the only one that wants to hang out with her.”

Regina notices that Karen sounds sad when she says it, but steers the conversation yet again to something more comfortable for her. “Whatever. I need to get my nails done after school. Are you coming with?”

     -  -

Regina runs into Janis when she’s late for class one day. Literally runs into her. Their books fly to the floor and Regina has the decency to at least look who’s in her way before screaming at them. She recoils when she sees it’s Janis, and thinks better of it.

Janis, for her part, says nothing in response to the silence. They go their separate ways afterwards. It’s strange how their schedules don’t match one bit, but Regina just shakes off the thought and heads to Spanish.

     -  -

The first time they talk, it’s because of Regina’s mom.

“I invited Janis for dinner,” she says easily just before putting plates on the table and getting everything ready.

“Why would you do that?” Regina can ask her all she wants, but she can\t expect her to understand, not when she herself doesn’t. She’s never told her the real reason why Janis was in art therapy, just that they had a falling out and Janis wasn’t taking high school as well as everyone else.

(She’s just weak like that, I guess. High school’s easy when you know what you’re doing. Regina doesn’t know if she believes it herself, but at least her mom is convinced.)

“Because you two were friends for years,” is the reply she gets. “I don’t understand why you just suddenly stopped talking.”

And Regina gets that this is the place where she explains, where she confesses to everything, where she lets her fate into the hands of another and alters a path she’s chosen. She knows that this is when she has to admit to her wrongdoing, because that’s what her mother wants: for her to confide in her and to let go of all the bad feelings in her life.

But it’s also neither the time nor place when she _wants_ to do all that. So instead, she says: “God, you can’t do _anything_ right, can you?” and storms up to her room.

     -  -

Dinner passes with no mention of the past, surprisingly. Admittedly, Regina and Janis don’t talk too much or even at all, but Janis never mentions anything about their falling out and Regina follows her lead.

For all the followers she has at school, she realizes that she’ll always be the one following Janis’ pace.

Regina’s mom tries hard to keep the conversation going well after dinner, but figures out it’s pointless when neither Janis nor Regina answer one of her endless questions, so she just nods and smiles. “Right, well, I see that you’re both tired. Regina, why don’t you walk Janis home?”

‘Fine.”

     -  -

It’s the last thing she wants to do, but she does so even after Janis insists it’s fine, and she can get home alone.

The closest path to Janis’ house is through the park. Their park, the place Regina’s been actively avoiding since those few days before her thirteenth birthday. Janis senses the uneasiness like it’s simple to read Regina. Like anyone could do it if they tried hard enough.

Maybe it’s because Regina’s never changed enough, but simply put on a mask everyone else can see. That mask disappears when she’s alone with Janis, because it was never a lasting one, and she regrets it now, at ten o’clock on a Friday night. She should have tried harder to change herself, because if she’s not fooling Janis, then who is she fooling? Is it anyone, at all?

(Is she fooling her mom? Is it getting back to her dad?)

They stop at the swing set, as if there’s some fond memory there acting a barrier on their path. It’s when Janis asks: “Why?”

It’s when Regina crumbles like she’s been waiting to hear it for the last two years and to explain herself for even longer. She doesn’t say a word, not really.

Instead, she kisses Janis like it’s a valid excuse for the hurt that Janis has gone through. Maybe it is, their lips touching with hunger Regina’s quite sure she’s always felt, desperate not to stop, not to explain in any other way.

When they part, Regina realizes it’s the end of her.

When they part, Janis turns and leaves her behind like she’s done to her before, in that same spot.

Perhaps she deserves everything she’s feeling at this moment, but it’s too incoherent to parse through everything, so she straightens her back, looks around herself just to check that no one’s there, as if it matters.

     -  -

Regina goes to school on Monday expecting the worst, and finds her locker untouched. Even worse, no one is talking about her, no one is even saying anything about Janis. She feels out the school through Gretchen, asking if anything’s happened over the weekend.

“Not really. But,” Gretchen goes from confusion to exuberance in one second as she raises her eyebrows. “I heard from Marwan that Aaron Samuels is going to ask you out on a date. Isn’t that exciting?”

And Regina says yes later that day without a thought spared for anything else. It’s the logical thing to do when a junior asks you to go out. Besides, everyone is fawning over Aaron like he’s some kind of Greek god, and even though Regina doesn’t see it—per se—she’d be crazy not to accept and make everyone jealous.

It’s a nice date the following weekend. He asks about her, and she never says anything defining. She asks about him, and never listens enough to catch all the details. He drives her home and promises he’d pick her up Monday morning to take her to school if she wants him to. See, logic has never been a problem for Regina.

Some things are just supposed to go in an order that she can clearly see. This, she knows, is a jackpot among high school victories. So she says, “Of course, I’d love to,” and when he leans in to kiss her, she lets him.

She falls asleep to thoughts of how his lips aren’t quite as soft as Janis’ and how he tilted his head to the left and closed his eyes even before he was close enough, but she kept hers wide open and staring onto the street beyond him.

None of it mattered, but it all mattered a little too much.

     -  -

Word gets around school that they’re dating a couple of weeks later, and Aaron asks if she’s okay with that, because they’ve not defined it yet. “Have you been with other girls?” She asks him right back.

“No, uh, of course not. I like you, Regina,” he stumbles over his words and, in another life, she’d find that endearing. But in this one, she’s too used to the determined pace Janis has always kept and she has kept up with it. It annoys her, but she doesn’t show it.

“Then it doesn’t bother me at all,” she says, pulling him down by the collar of his shirt and kissing him for everyone to see. Technically, PDA isn’t allowed on school grounds, but none of the teachers are there to see it, and it’s short enough.

They walk hand in hand, they go on dates and none of it is Regina’s ideal life, but she settles for what she’s allowed to get. If she’s forced to have a boyfriend because of the peer pressure of everyone saying they’re “ _the cutest_ ” and that they fit perfectly together, then at the very least she’ll do it with the hottest guy in school.

     -  -

The next time she sees Janis alone and outside of school grounds, it’s a slip of judgement that makes her walk to the park. It’s abandoned now, no one really comes there. There are children in their neighborhood—of course there are—but there’s a new park just two blocks south of there, and it’s much better equipped.

Everyone’s forgotten this space but for her and Janis, and even the two of them don’t visit it often enough for it to be relevant.

In all honesty, Regina doesn’t even know why she’s even there. When she sees that Janis is there, too, it’s too late to turn back. She’s sitting on one swing, looking at Regina as she approaches. Regina takes a seat in the other, never crossing gazes with Janis.

“Aaron, huh?” Janis asks after a long silence between them, the only noises before that being ones of the squeaky swings they’re sitting in.

Regina has no idea what to answer. She settles for just, “Mhm,” instead of a real response, and Janis doesn’t pry for more even though she has every right to do so. Even though Regina would likely answer her other questions, the more defined ones.

Instead, they just sit together, stealing glances here and there until it finally gets to a point when their eyes meet and neither of them looks away. Regina’s gripping the handles of the swing so tight that the steel has to be leaving a mark on her palms.

“So do you like him?” Janis asks again, maybe desperate to get some sort of conversation out of this whole things, or maybe Regina’s just imagining that.

“He’s cute,” she says easily, because it’s not a lie. She has no problem lying to people, she’s mastered the art a long time ago, but she doesn’t do that with Janis. Not after the last time. It takes everything she has to actually stay there and let Janis question her.

For her part, Janis only scoffs. “No, I _mean_ , do you really like him enough to be his girlfriend?” And of course she does, Regina’s just there one question too long and then she’s reexamining even coming there in the first place. So she does the only thing she can: she stands up and starts to leave.

Janis stops her by getting up and grabbing her arm. Regina doesn’t turn around.

“Yeah, I like him. He’s different.”

Janis lets her leave, and Regina guesses it’s because she knows who he’s different from. She’s thankful no further questions are asked, because she’s not sure she’d do well under that kind of pressure.

     -  -

In the days that follow, Regina doesn’t really think about it. She focuses on Aaron, and Gretchen, and Karen, and whatever party is hot that night. Her mom is out of town, but the thought of throwing one herself is unimaginable, because she knows what high school boys are capable of, and she’s not sure they’d survive the night.

It’s like a community service from her to them, that she never throws a party at her place and instead frequents everyone else’s. Generally, it’s known who throws good ones, and she makes sure she goes to those. Others, she thinks about, and ultimately decides on a whim. Yes, it’s great to have entertainment for a night, but it becomes exhausting after a while, having to socialize with everyone.

She’s not forced to be nice—never really is nice—but it’s all the energy around her and the horrible beer. Aaron, bless him, catches on that she doesn’t like beer, and makes a point of bringing something different for her to many of the parties they go to.

She wishes she could like him—really, she does. But he’s just there to look pretty, and he’s _good_ at it. So much so, that he doesn’t even notice that she’s been stringing him along the whole time, making a play out of their relationship for everyone else, but not herself.

When he takes her home after this party, she makes the mistake of letting him know her mother isn’t there, and he takes it as a suggestive comment instead of a simple declaration on her part. She lets him, and sleeps with him, because he’s there, and he looks handsome, and she’s not feeling guilty in the least about it.

Regina wakes up with a hangover and his arm around her, and concludes that she should be feeling amazing after her first time, but runs to the bathroom to throw up last night’s liquor and get a handle on her breathing.

It happens more often now, this heaviness inside her that she can’t control. She tries counting for a while, and it works, until it stops. Then she starts thinking about other things, ends up making her mind go to places where not one of the people she knows is in, and ultimately calms back down to the reality.

It could be a mistake that she never thinks about it after, never imagines how she could make it stop once and for all after it’s done with and she can breathe again.

     -  -

Halloween is always the night when everything is fun. Aaron wears a soccer uniform of some Ronaldo guy Regina could care less about, and that’s about all the effort he’s made, but at least it makes it easy to coordinate. It’s expected of them, so she goes as a cheerleader whose skirt is far too short for any school’s regulations.

Aaron drives her home, as per habit, but she tells him her mom will hear them if he stays the night, and he believes her. Regina watches him drive away and heads to the park.

Janis isn’t there. Of _course_ she isn’t.

But she’s there when dawn breaks and Regina’s still sitting in one of the swings, only half-awake. She has a puzzled expression on her features, and Regina can’t really blame her for it. She must look terrible, for her standards.

“It’s six in the morning,” Janis states, as if that’s explanation enough for why Regina shouldn’t be there. Regina says nothing, so Janis elaborates. “Why are you up at six in the morning?”

“Am I not allowed to be?” Granted, the attitude isn’t warranted and Janis doesn’t deserve it. (There are a lot of things Janis doesn’t deserve in her life, and Regina’s the catalyst of all of them.) “Why are you up?”

“Been painting all night, needed fresh air.” There’s an honesty about Janis that Regina sees every day and it scares her each time. She’s unapologetic about every move she makes, and she doesn’t like to think that she’s the one who’s caused it, but it gives her some peace on this earth, so she does.

She nods at the response, standing up from the swing. “I’ll let you have some peace, then,” Regina says, exhaling. It’s more dramatic than serving any purpose at all, especially followed by her walking away.

“Regina, wait,” Janis says, and Regina hears her taking step forward, so she stops. She turns around without much strength to it. “I never had a chance to respond.”

This time, when Regina can’t breathe, it’s because of the lack of space between them, and it’s the most liberated she’s felt in her life. It’s because of Janis kissing her, her tongue sliding across Regina’s lips and it’s because Regina parts them readily.

It’s because Janis is not Aaron, and Janis is _Janis_ , like they’re thirteen again and nothing’s ever gone wrong. Or maybe it’s just that she’s tired and she hasn’t had enough sleep to judge this as a mistake, to slip away before anything further can happen.

Janis pulls her closer, hands on Regina’s hips, and Regina melts into her touch, fading into her like they’re meant to stay there forever.

She gets home with a hickey and has to finally admit to her mother that yes, she’s dating Aaron, and that no, it’s not a big deal at all. She doesn’t mention that Aaron is gentle when it comes to his touches, that he’d never think of leaving a hickey on her neck like some freak.

     -  -

They’re thirteen when their friendship falls apart, and they’re fifteen when they fall back together.

Regina curses herself for doing anything about this, but she stops feeling empty for a while, and maybe it’s because being fifteen means that she has a better understanding of the world. Teenagers are cruel, and she’s up there at the top, but grown-ups are more so; her dad won’t come back just because she’s with some guy and denying her sexuality to the world.

It works out in the best way, because she still gets to keep her reputation and popularity, but kisses Janis behind closed doors and for no one to see. A bonus to all of it is that they never talk, because rational conversations would lead to more and feelings being hurt all over again.

Not hers, of course.

“Really, the locker room?” Janis asks on one occasion, and it’s one of the rare times when they exchange a few words before making out. “Classy,” drips with sarcasm when Janis exclaims it, but it’s their free period and everyone’s in the gym, so Regina knows it’s a safe place and therefore the smartest.

“Would you rather somewhere where everyone can see us?” Regina asks, furrowing her brows as she walks closer to Janis.

“Like you’d ever,” Janis snorts, shaking her head and pulling Regina closer to her once she’s in reach. “I prefer places where it doesn’t stink of sweat, but it’ll do.”

     -  -

The closest they come to being caught after being so careful for a month and a half is when her mother all but hurries up the stairs to Regina’s room and Regina whisper screams until Janis hides in her closet before the woman can come into the room.

“Do you need something, mother?”

“I just saw the cutest dress for the New Year’s party you’re attending,” she says, hand over her heart as if she’s imagining Regina in it. “You have _got_ to come see it.”

Regina rolls her eyes and practically ushers her mother out of her bedroom. “I’ve already bought a dress for it, _thanks_.” Her mother truly doesn’t deserve the attitude Regina has towards her, but it’s hard to contain it when it’s become routine.

It will make sense later, when she’s ready to admit that she’s gay and her mother abandons her just like her dad had. For now, it’s a defense mechanism in place to save herself the heartbreak later on.

Janis comes out of the closet when the door is safely shut and locked, barely containing her laughter. “What?” Regina asks, hands on her hips and eyes trained on Janis.

“One parent’s out the door, and that’s how you treat the one who stayed?”

She has a point, but Regina doesn’t entertain the possibility of conversation and instead pushes Janis towards the bed until her legs hit the frame and she falls on her back.

She’d much rather have her underneath her with no words on her lips, no coherent thought in her brain.

     -  -

The New Year rolls around after Christmas, and Regina has Aaron to kiss, but she doesn’t mind it that night. She’s well aware that she can’t really kiss anyone else, and besides—Janis isn’t there, even if she wanted to. The Plastics: that’s what sticks around after the party. Regina doesn’t mind it one bit.

If that’s how they see her, Gretchen and Karen, then so be it. It’s the image she’s tried her hardest to present for the past year and a half or however long high school’s been so far.

She stops seeing Janis for a while after that almost encounter with her mom, keeping a safe distance. Their messaging threat goes from locations where they should meet to completely quiet, to nothing. And Regina’s fine with that, she is.

How could she not be? She’s enjoying everyone around her admiring her, and having the best time of her life in high school, which everyone has claimed is impossible. She spends a week in Aspen at the beginning of February, missing enough school that would have someone else worried, but everyone falls over themselves offering her notes, even though it’s obvious she’ll take Gretchen’s.

Their schedules match for a reason, and it’s not like Regina’s ever had trouble convincing her teachers that maybe she deserves a grade up or two. She’s not one to sit down and study too hard when she doesn’t have to, that’s for nerds to do.

She never understands how Aaron does it, but it gets in the way when there’s exams, and she finally breaks when he has a calculus exam he has to study for.

     -  -

It’s the middle of March and officially two months since she’s last texted Janis, but she doesn’t apologize. No, she doesn’t even say anything other than: “Projection room above the auditorium, fourth period.”

It doesn’t even cross her mind that Janis won’t show up, even though she has every reason not to after not having any contact for months. Who could resist her?

She ends up being right only by chance, but not before she has to wait a full ten minutes in the room alone. Regina’s on the verge of leaving when Janis barges in. “What took you so long?”

“I had to get rid of Damian somehow,” Janis shrugs, seemingly not even slightly bothered by being late. So Regina decides she shouldn’t be, either. She’s known it all along, really, but she’s let herself feel more about this than anything else, and sometimes the lines blur.

     -  -

She wins Spring Fling Queen again, and Aaron gets King. They get their crowns and Aaron tells her he loves her when they’re dancing later.

“It’s better to be feared than loved,” rings in her head and she doesn’t know how it’s come to this point. Maybe he feels obligated to say it by the formality of it all, or he actually, surprisingly feels that way after she’s spent months with him, barely interested. They’ve had talks lasting for a while, she’s not completely dumb to think that a relationship would last without those, but she’s never gave him an inkling that she feels the same.

She only lets a small pause be between them before she responds: “Love you, too.” As if she’s been wanting to say that to _him_ for a while now, and has just been waiting for him to say them first. Aaron should know she’s not a follower in anything, but he doesn’t, and he smiles at her.

His smile makes her want to love him back, the grin that makes other girls go crazy for him, crazy of jealousy for her. She kisses him and closes her eyes.

She kisses him and thinks how Janis’ lips are firmer against hers, and how he doesn’t even compare. The worst thing about it is that Janis is there, and there’s no way she can’t see her in the middle of the dance floor, in the center of everyone’s attention.

     -  -

Aaron takes her home that night, and she wants to get out and call Janis, but what she does is kiss him and tell him to drive her to his place. It’s far, and she’s tired; her feet hurt from the heels she’s wearing, but she gives him another chance to impress.

He doesn’t. Regina knows it’s not his fault.

     -  -

Here’s the thing:

Regina’s not sure of her own sexuality. Yes, she’s been utterly disinterested in the boys around her, and obviously she enjoys Janis’ _company_ more than Aaron’s, but maybe that’s just because they’re the company she keeps.

Maybe she just needs to go out and explore.

Last weeks of sophomore year pass by quietly, and she doesn’t give it much thought, but summer rolls around and brings a new wave of that feeling that it could be just a fluke that she’s only ever liked Janis.

The first time she notices Shane Oman, she’s at his pool party, basking in the sun on one of the lounge chairs. He looks good in his swimming trunks, hair wet and pushed back.

But Aaron is there, and Regina’s saving grace from staring at Shane are her sunglasses which don’t allow anyone to see where exactly she’s looking. Instead of by her side, Gretchen and Karen are with a group of guys in the pool, and maybe that’s for the best. She gets a little peace and quiet in the bustle of the party.

“You having fun?” She hears Aaron before he comes into her field of view, and she nods, smirking.

“How could I not be?” It’s an evasive maneuver that Aaron doesn’t quite catch, posing another question on top of his. He grins at her and extends his hand.

“C’mon, let’s go into the pool,” he says, though his voice is unsure if she’ll accept. She takes his hand and stands up, leaving her sunglasses behind and letting Aaron lead her to the pool. It’s all about allowing others to do whatever she wants when it comes to Regina. Maybe she’ll allow Shane to help her figure a few things out.

     -  -

The problem with Aaron is that Regina can’t have a nice guy. He emits gentleness whenever he smiles, and he’s so caring and careful around her that she just _knows_ she doesn’t deserve him.

He’s everything anyone could want, but not her. And it’s strange, because she can feel that he’s hers completely; she can hear it in his voice when he tells her he loves her, and she can see it in his eyes every time he looks at her. Regina should be _happy_ , but despite all of her life pointing to it, she cannot find it in herself.

It’s part of the rough edges thing she has going on, and she welcomes it over happiness because it’s all she’s known in her life around everyone. When she’s with Aaron, sometimes she reconsiders how she acts, runs her fingers through his hair and kisses his lips softly. Ultimately, that’s not for her and she ends up seeking out what is.

She’s with Shane, and things are better, more tactile and more in general.

When she’s with Shane, things take a turn to the wild, to the area she’s most comfortable in. He brings out of her what she needs, and she enjoys the two weeks she recklessly hooks up with him behind Aaron’s back, never putting as much thought into hiding as she does with Janis.

Aaron catches them at a party, in someone’s bathroom. “Oh, sorry, I just needed to use—Regina?”

Perhaps the hardest thing to hide is that she can see clearly the heartbreak in his eyes, because his gaze has always said everything there is. He’s an open book to everyone around him, and Regina knows she sees even more of him. But she stays stoic, shrugs and even smirks, like pouring salt into the very evident wound.

She finds no excuse, even though she’s certain she can make him believe almost anything. “Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“What, since _when_?” He’s puzzled and doesn’t seem to know what he’s even asking, or why he’s found himself there, in front of Regina and Shane topless, losing themselves in the heat of the moment enough to forget to lock the door.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” Regina tells him, pulling her shirt over her head. The moment’s over with Shane, so she heads out of the bathroom, past Aaron.

“We’re done.”

It’s the most confident Aaron has sounded about any part of their relationship, and Regina can’t blame him. All she says is: “You never really deserved me, anyway,” as she leaves the party, unbothered by the curious stares following her every step.

     -  -

( When she’s with Janis, soft and harsh battle for dominance; one moment, she pushed against the wall, the other Janis is kissing her jaw gently, taking her sweet time. It’s different every time, and the complete opposite of anything Aaron or Shane have ever offered her.

The only time there’s no guise of tenderness is after Aaron and her have broken up, and the story of it floods the school, rumors flying around. Without either of them commenting, no one knows the full story, but some have pieced together pieces.

“Shane over Aaron?” Janis asks that time, shaking her head before kissing her, parting only to let Regina answer.

“He’s hotter, better six-pack.” Regina shrugs it off, and hopes that Janis can’t read her like she used to. She wonders if it’s apparent in her voice that while she does think the comment is truthful, it’s backed by societal norms of hotness and not her own experience.

She takes off Janis’ shirt and loses control thereon. )

     -  -

It’s easier, in the summer, to hide it. No one cares where she is half the time, except for Gretchen. She starts getting dismissive with her, and for once, she truly doesn’t care. She never says anything about Janis, rolls her eyes whenever Gretchen mentions her, even. Lately, she’s had an urge to smile at the name, but she has to push it down deep inside her stomach, underneath the annoying butterflies.

People invite her _everywhere_ , and it’s only normal to accept barely even half of what they offer. She goes to the mall to grab coffee with some, enjoys summer parties that always end up being spent in someone’s backyard, but draws the line at one-on-ones with people she barely knows. They want to get into the main three, but they’re three for a reason.

Regina can only handle people for so long; she doesn’t have the necessary social skills to ignore every little thing that annoys her about them or to keep her comments to a minimum like they would likely prefer. So she never gives them high expectations.

In the end, it’s Regina, Gretchen, and Karen and that’s how it stays throughout the summer before their junior year. Boys come and go for all of them, and Regina keeps seeing Shane to keep up appearances, but tells Gretchen she doesn’t regret cheating on Aaron with him. “The sex is _so_ much better,” she says, “Aaron might almost be a senior, but so is Shane. And when it comes to time spent… I’d rather be doing someone useful.”

Gretchen has Jason, and though Regina can’t see what attracts her to him, she tolerates it. He gets on her nerves every time he speaks, so she takes him in limited doses, and is grateful that Gretchen has a need to satisfy her so strong that she senses something is wrong and keeps him away from Regina.

     -  -

Regina has some sense not to risk making out at their park again, so they go to each other’s homes whenever their parents aren’t there. It’s usually when the sun is up, and it’s harder to hide in the sunlight, but they manage.

She’s not sure why Janis has never said anything, but she also knows exactly how to hit back when she does. There’s no question that she will: she’s probably just waiting out for the right moment to strike, for all stars to align.

For now, Regina’s satisfied just keeping up with what they have. Never too bothered by conversation, always ready to spend an afternoon in bed. They rarely stay for longer, but it happens that summer that Regina falls asleep at Janis’ and wakes up to the girl painting something on the other side of the room.

She doesn’t ask to see it, knows that’s not her territory, but sneaks a glance and only manages to see the view out of Janis’ window on the canvas. It makes sense, Janis always used to like painting landscapes the best, so painting the view is a perfectly normal to do. Her style seems evolved from the short peek Regina gets, but she can’t see enough to judge it.

She leaves regretful that she’s fallen asleep or that Janis has let her, but doesn’t worry too much about it. There’s still time left in the day to forget about that lapse in judgement, and her pool looks as great as it ever has.

She ends up catching much more sun than water, and that’s fine by her; she reads a half of a book that Gretchen gave her, and time flies.

     -  -

Regina hears about a new girl before she sees her, and when she does, it’s at lunch and the girl is with Janis. Damian, too, but Regina’s grown used to just not seeing him. (It’s one of the warning signs among a pile of them, but she ignores it like she ignores most things that don’t feel good.)

They seem like they’re explaining something to her, and Regina doesn’t know what possess her to stop Cady when she’s passing by their table, but she’s cute and something inside Regina sparks up enough to make her do it.

It’s a terrible idea, and she knows that Gretchen must be surprised, but she does it in spite of every bit of good judgement she has.

“Oh wait, why don’t I know you?”

     -  -

Cady Heron seems perfectly normal and straight, and she seems to have a slight obsession with Regina. She welcomes it readily, used to the feeling. It’s strange, adding a new person to the little group after so long.

It’s accomplishing something, at least: Cady seems not to spend more time with Janis. Instead, she’s focused on Regina so much that Regina even falls for it a little. She allows Cady to get as close as Karen and Gretchen are, where the walls start getting higher and no one is let past those.

They sit at the same table at lunch, talk about boys and clothes and interests; Cady is as uncultured as they come, but Regina thinks they can work with that.

     -  -

They’re at Regina’s when the first comment about Janis comes up. “Oh my god, she’s so weird,” Regina is quick to say, as if by some reflex. Cady has the nerve to question it, and _that_ is something Regina wouldn’t normally tolerate.

She lets it go and explains, in no uncertain terms, why Janis is weird.

Not of a word of it is true, but the lie comes quickly and no one corrects her. Gretchen and Karen just move on to the next person in the Burn Book, like she’s not said anything out of the ordinary. Maybe they’re so used to going along with whatever she says, or maybe they just don’t remember; either way, Regina gets her point across.

     -  -

Janis still comes to the projection room every Thursday, which lets Regina know Cady’s not told her about it. She’s fine with that: Cady can keep a secret and Regina still gets to make out with Janis.

Gretchen insists on asking how Shane is every time, quietly, and Regina either shrugs it off or says a quick, “Fine,” whenever it happens. She lets her think her assumption is correct because it’s the easiest way to deal with it. She still doesn’t want Cady to know about it, because she’s nowhere close to actually trusting her.

Just because Janis has been fine with not saying anything about the two of them and because Regina doesn’t see her and Cady together, it doesn’t mean it could all change in a matter of seconds.

Cady asks her where she’s been one Thursday, the week of the Halloween party, and she dismisses it easily, but moves to a different topic as promptly as she can to avoid anymore questions. One thing about Cady she dislikes—besides the fact that her closet seems to be filled with plaid shirts, jeans and nothing else—is that she’s not one whose curiosity is easily satisfied like Gretchen is. She doesn’t have enough control over her; it reminds her of why they never invite people to sit with them.

     -  -

Regina finds out that Cady likes Aaron at the party, and all she feels is rage. Not because she likes Aaron, per se, but because it feels like that’s still her territory somehow. She masks it with a smile and offers to talk to him for Cady.

She never intends to actually get them together, obviously. It’s easy enough to play Aaron, she’s used to it and she knows what he’ll respond to the most. He brings up Shane predictably, and Regina brushes over the comment with ease. It takes a conversation to make him believe she still likes him.

But he’s still the same Aaron Samuels, and kissing him is as always, not ideal. She sees Cady run out of the party and thinks it’s mission accomplished, satisfied with herself. Aaron takes her hand and they’re together for the rest of the party, like nothing has ever happened between them.

She wants to tell him it’s all a game to her, but resists the urge because that would be so out of her character. She has a feeling they’ll be breaking up soon enough, this is just about having Cady believe that he’s out of her reach.

You really _can’t_ expect to be with one of your friend’s exes, it’s not ethical.

     -  -

This time, Janis doesn’t comment on the fact that she’s cozying up to him again, or that he’s been sitting at her table at lunch. In fact, she doesn’t say anything at all, and ignores anything Regina offers as awkward conversation.

“You’re impatient today,” Regina finally says, when she’s kissing Janis’ jaw, tracing a line down it and to her neck. “I like it.”

It’s the first time she’s said anything like that, and the first time she regrets words ever coming out of her mouth. She shuts up and doesn’t say a word until she’s making Janis writhe against her. “Say my name.” She wants it to sound confident, but ends up forming it as more of a question, pausing her fingers for a second as if she’s determined.

Janis is desperate enough to comply despite Regina almost giving into the silence and continuing without waiting for it. “Regina,” slips from Janis’ lips quietly, but it’s quickly followed by a moan elicited by Regina’s hand, which she’s swift to silence with a kiss.

It’s not the first time she hears her name in these encounters, but it’s the first time she asks for it.

Janis leaves without reciprocating, and Regina gets that she might deserve it, but she also feels like something is different between them. Something seems to be going back to how things were after their fight.

     -  -

Aaron breaks up with her. Again.

It gets back to him that she’s cheating, and she suspects Gretchen because he asks about Shane, but doesn’t confirm it.

“So that’s it, huh?” Regina asks him, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re just gonna leave now?”

“Yeah, I am. I was stupid to get hooked by you again.”

It somehow stings when it shouldn’t, and on top of it, she’s been gaining instead of losing weight, even though Cady swears by those bars. She keeps eating them, since there’s no reason not to trust her. The costume debacle at the talent show is a repercussion from it, but Regina recovers.

     -  -

Until Gretchen says she can’t sit with them. She summons all the pathos she has in her to say, “Sweatpants are all that fits me right now,” but it doesn’t work.

For the first time in her life, Regina is rejected. The stupid rules were there to keep others away, not _her_. She texts Janis to come to the art room, but she’s already there when Regina arrives, painting one thing or another.

It doesn’t really matter what it is, because Regina has no time for anything other than kissing Janis and forgetting all about the embarrassing spectacle Gretchen has made. More than anything, she’s furious with Cady, whom she’s given everything she has to.

And then Janis takes the top spot on that list: “I can’t do this anymore.”

Regina tilts her head to the side, raises her eyebrows and takes a step back. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Janis says in lieu of an explanation. Regina looks at her for a few seconds and chuckles, but leaves the classroom.

She doesn’t hear no often, and today’s been filled with it. Suddenly, she’s fallen from the pedestal everyone has been putting her on for years, and she doesn’t know where she’s landed, but it’s not her chosen location.

     -  -

Regina lets everyone enjoy their moment, because it’s going to be the last thing they do on top.

Cady practically skips through the halls surrounded by a mass of people Regina wouldn’t be caught dead with. She always seems a little regretful when Regina walks by, but there’s no reason for them to talk about it. Regina’s not one for sorting things out the civil way.

Aaron avoids her gaze whenever she tries to get his attention. She doesn’t call his name, not really interested in him talking to her, but it’s disheartening that he’d do anything just to avoid her. He doesn’t seem to have got together with Cady, but she wouldn’t put it past the two of them.

Janis, she doesn’t even see, and it’s not Janis’ doing. Regina actively stays away from halls she knows Janis takes to her classes, and if they manage to somehow cross paths, she looks ahead instead of around herself.

     -  -

Regina’s mom notices something is wrong, but Regina doesn’t care to explain the whole thing.

“You can tell me anything, honey.” Regina holds the door open for her in lieu of a response, and she doesn’t feel guilty in the slightest. It seems more harsh somehow, but her mom’s used to it, and Regina can’t find it in herself to care about anything but revenge at this point in time.

     -  -

Her plan evolves when she loses weight, and when it’s actually close enough to Spring Fling to care. She’ll be damned if she loses it this year, after two consecutive years of winning. She might not be the favored nominee anymore, but people are still under her influence. It’s just a matter of knocking Cady down a few pegs, because Karen and Gretchen are no competition.

Mr. Duvall eats her story up like it’s a five-star meal, and Regina feels like she’s on top of the world again.

There’s an art to the chaos that the Burn Book creates. Pages splattered across the hallway, every junior girl rushing to find their page, it’s a hectic mess that Regina lives for, and it’s a wonder she hasn’t done it earlier.

She had things to do before she was ready, though, and now is as good a time as any to witness the mess she has created. She sets up all three of the leftover Plastics and they have no way out of it because she’s made a page for herself, and no one’s going to be checking handwritings in the book. They don’t have enough funds for that, and it’s not worthy of it.

So when everything erupts and fights happen, it’s only a little surprising that every girl is called to the gym. Regina has half the mind to skip this, but she goes solely because it will surely be a clusterfuck, and she’ll revel in the mess she has made.

Everyone sits in the bleachers, but Regina’s eyes are trained on Cady, because she’s sitting in her spot. She ends up sitting where she can see everyone, and looks at Janis for most of the time, only looking away when something interesting happens on the other side of the gym.

     -  -

It’s one thing expecting Regina George to double cross someone: it’s happened before, people are used to it. But a curve ball she doesn’t expect is Janis responding to her quip by revealing a whole plan they’d cooked up at the start of the year. She thinks no one could have ever expected that, but she still looks at Cady and Janis in shock like they weren’t supposed to be able to do that.

She looks at Janis and sees her fury; maybe she deserves it, after the way she’s treated her when they were thirteen.

     -  -

( She feels like she can’t breathe, can’t speak, can’t look at anyone anymore. Counting doesn’t help, and neither does thinking of something else because Janis is still talking and she won’t _stop_ , like rubbing it in is the only thing bringing her joy.

It’s motivational, sure, but it’s also making Regina hyperventilate and feel like the room is somehow running out of air even though everyone else seems _fine_. )

     -  -

Regina steps away from Cady when she tries to apologize, runs out of the school for fresh air, and gets hit by a bus. Whatever helps her breathe again.

     -  -

She sees Gretchen and her mom for a brief moment, and then she’s back to losing consciousness.

     -  -

She dies for fifteen seconds, and when she’s in her hospital room, Regina feels more alive than ever. It’s the drugs mixed with a sense of relief that the bus hasn’t taken away everything. Just her ability to move normally or live without a brace for a month or two.

She spends a week in the hospital and wakes up every day feeling like she can’t breathe. Her doctor suggests a therapist, and her mom books an appointment immediately.

     -  -

The only time Regina has an actual reason not to breathe, is when she wakes up and Janis is in the chair next to the bed, scrolling through something on her phone. She shuffles minimally to get her attention and struggles to lift the bed up a little.

“Hey,” Janis says, straightening up in the chair. “Your mom said it was okay if I waited here. She went home to shower and get you something that’s not hospital food to eat.”

Regina doesn’t care about any of it, but: “Why are you here?”

She’s loopy from the drugs they’re giving her to keep the pain away, but right now it all seems clear as ever except for the reason why Janis wants to be visiting her at the hospital. She got flowers from Gretchen and Karen, Shane sent a box of chocolates, and there’s some cards she doesn’t care to read from people she doesn’t give a shit about.

But she never expected anything from Janis, much less to see her there, in front of her.

“I came to apologize.” Janis can’t get another word out before Regina is stopping her, making every effort she can not to instinctively shake her head.

“No,” she tells her, “No. It pains me to say this—literally, I am in physical pain—but I deserved it. I just didn’t expect you to be at my level.” Regina doesn’t say that she believe Janis has surpassed her, because that would just be needlessly putting herself down, but she’s more honest with herself and Janis than she has been in years.

“It doesn’t make what I did right, so I’m sorry.”

It may be the first time Regina feels the urge to say sorry herself, and the medication makes it easy to get the words out. “No, _I’m_ sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did,” she says, inhaling deeply. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

     -  -

Sometimes, at night when she can’t fall asleep, Regina thinks back to all the opportunities she’s had to tell Janis exactly how sorry she\s been. Every kiss could have been an apology, every touch a gentle reminder of it. They could have had a lot of time to patch things up.

But Regina doesn’t talk to people, and actions speak nothing, it turns out. The mess they’ve never defined imploded on them because there was no conversation led in any of their encounters.

She reminisces about the first time she saw Janis after freshman year – not in school, but at the park – and tries to figure out how it could have been. She gives up halfway because it’s of no use, and they’re only on speaking terms now because she’s been hit by a bus, and the brevity of life has been shoved into everyone’s lives.

On the nights she stays awake, she uses the techniques her therapist has suggested to calm herself down, but it only works half the time.

     -  -

The other half, she ends up texting Janis, and Janis either replies in a matter of seconds, or in the morning. She prefers the former, because it lets them have a conversation without Regina feeling awkward.

She never shares the reason for the late night texts, and Janis never asks, but they’re always something insanely trivial that doesn’t let them get to serious topics. Regina feels like they’re okay. They could be better, but with a spinal halo and more pain than she’s ever been in, she doesn’t know if she wants to experiment with that right now.

Regina settles with herself that sending a screen grab of something funny is easier than thinking of a conversation opener, because she’s never been one to start them. Janis follows along, and keeps up with her pace for once. It’s not Regina following because she’s still on her meds that don’t allow for it, and Janis seems to understand.

They stop texting when one of them falls asleep, and usually that one is Regina, her phone discarded on her stomach, with a hand over it. When she doses off in the few minutes it takes Janis to reply to a text, she doesn’t feel the vibration, and the conversation stops.

     -  -

She doesn’t go to school leading up to the Spring Fling. It’s too painful, and she’s excused from classes until she recovers a little, so she takes the opportunity to patch up her relationship with her mother.

It’s a strenuous process mostly because Regina’s struggling with what she wants to say, so it takes days before an actual conversation between them unravels. She’s downstairs in the living room, and her mom has just brought her a tray with lunch on it.

“Can you sit down for a second?” Regina asks, placing the tray on her lap. She’s looking down at the plate while her mom sits down on the armchair across from her. Then she starts. “I know I said I was sorry for everything, but there’s something else.”

With all the courage of a neck brace and sympathy behind her, Regina George can finally say it. “I think I might be a lesbian.” The silence following her confession is deafening and for a second, Regina thinks she’s running out of breath, so she tries to focus on it until her mom stands up.

“Oh, honey,” is what she says and then she takes a step forward, leaning down with arms open until Regina reminds her, “Spinal halo!” when she puts her hands down and only kisses Regina’s forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”

     -  -

They go dress shopping together because her mom insists, and Regina can’t pretend like she doesn’t want that.

They walk around the whole mall trying to find one, and stop to rest between every few stores. Walking is still a challenge when Regina’s hurt, so they take it slow. Once they find it, it’s almost closing time. White is a choice she makes more often with shirts and skirts, but this dress fits what she has in mind the best.

Regina almost breaks down in the changing room when she’s trying it on, because every choice looks ridiculous with her brace, but she reminds herself that she can’t miss Spring Fling. She’s not delirious enough to think she’ll win, but there’s still hope.

(If she has to latch onto that to make herself go, then so be it. It’ll be the first time she’ll be at the school following the bus incident, and if that’s not terrifying, Regina doesn’t know what is.)

She sees Janis closing up the store she works at when they’re walking out, tries to avoid her mother noticing the girl, but fails miserably. “Janis!” Regina flinches at her mom’s scream, pitch too high for comfort. “Do you need a ride?”

Then she does something Regina can’t fathom: she turns to look at her and winks. It’s somehow more genuine than she’s been around Regina, but absolutely ridiculous and horrifying. She hopes Janis hasn’t seen it, and just closes her eyes for a second to forget it.

“Oh, uh, sure,” from Janis snaps her out of it. It’s not like she’s completely surprised by it—it makes sense—but paired with her mother’s… encouragement, Regina would rather be anywhere else at this moment.

Her mother talks throughout the whole ride until, finally, Regina cracks. “Mom!” It’s a little too loud even for her taste, but it gets her to stop. “I’m sure Janis has had a long day and would enjoy some quiet.

“Oh,” her mom nods, “You’re right, sweetie.”

Her and Janis are in the back of the jeep, because Regina finds it more comfortable, and Janis probably assumed Regina would take the front seat. Even so, they’re as far as they can be from each other. Regina steals glances of Janis until one time their eyes meet and she stops herself. The view out the window is as tedious as ever, but she’d rather not feel awkward about this thing.

Once her mom stops in front of Janis’ house, Regina sees Janis hesitate after she’s opened the door. Their gazes meet again, and Janis smiles at her.

(When she loses her breath again, she finds it seconds later but she still feels like falling. She smiles back more genuinely than she has in years.)

“I’ll see you around,” Janis tells Regina, who only hums in response. “Thanks for the ride, Ms. George.”

And just like that, she’s gone and they’re driving to their house; Regina can’t wipe the smile off her lips.

     -  -

( The only time there’s nothing but tenderness between them is the next time they see each other. It’s the day of Spring Fling, and Regina’s sitting on a bench in their park because the swings look uninviting in her condition.

Janis approaches quietly, Regina almost doesn’t notice her coming. “Not getting ready yet?” There’s enough room next to Regina on the bench, but Janis doesn’t sit down. She’s far enough away so that Regina doesn’t have to struggle with adjusting her head to look at her—it’s the most thoughtful thing she could do, and Regina’s convinced it’s not even on purpose.

“There’s still hours to go. Besides, I’m waiting for Gretchen and Karen, they’re supposed to come soon.” Getting ready is extremely easy when she already has everything planned in her mind. It used to take hours, picking the right outfit, a whole ritual on Sundays to get everything in order for the week that follows.

Now, she’s not worried about it.

“I see.” Janis smiles again, and Regina doesn’t know what it is about it, but it makes her smile, too. “Hoping to win that crown again? I hear no one’s done it three years in a row.”

Regina chuckles: it’d be a nice record too hold. “Hoping to have fun.” But she’s not banking on the student population’s favor, not when it’s so close to the actual event and every doubt in her mind has her convinced otherwise.

“Who are you going with?”

“Solo. Shane offered, but I’m done pretending. You?”

“Damian.”

It’s almost too predictable, but Regina basks in the comfort of it. She doesn’t really deserve Janis—not really, she doesn’t know if she ever will—but her not being _taken_ is something she gets to enjoy for at least a little while longer.

Janis approaches her slowly, leaning down and hesitating beforehand, but still kissing Regina, softer than Regina’s ever been kissed. It’s new and exciting, and ends too soon. They don’t say another word, because Janis leaves and Regina follows suit soon after. She has a dance to get ready for, and a thought to get out of her head.

But maybe for once, she feels hopeful of what could be. )

     -  -

When she gets her spinal halo off (finally), Regina invites six people to her house. She calls it celebration after the year they’ve had, and says a part of it is finally being off her medication and out of the brace.

Her mother insists on buying a cake, because it’s also a belated birthday party in her mind. Regina doesn’t really care about it.

To her surprise, everyone comes even though she hasn’t made them RSVP so she could know. And it’s fun; it’s never quiet, and everyone is talking to everyone and playing cards or chilling in the pool. She steals glances of Janis from time to time, makes sure she looks satisfied – which, to her credit, she does. It makes Regina feel weird, like she’s done something right.

A couple of hours pass by quickly, and then there’s a moment of silence between them. Others are enjoying the day still, conversing away, but her and Janis have opted out of whatever the rest are doing in the pool right now.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” Janis asks, casting a glance at the others and then bringing her attention to Regina.

“Are we not doing that right now?”

“I meant inside.”

Regina shrugs and nods.

     -  -

( She’s terrified of what Janis has to say. She throws a, “We’ll be right back,” over her shoulder when Cady asks where they’re going, but it comes out shaky. Her voice betrays her, but Janis doesn’t turn around or give any indication that she hears the hesitation in it.

Regina follows, but her heart beats faster with every step, and she doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. )

     -  -

They go inside and close the door, coming into the living room where everyone’s left their bags and phones. Janis immediately goes to her backpack, and Regina stops in her tracks. Somehow, waiting for whatever it is Janis is looking for makes her more anxious than anything has in her life.

And then Janis is holding a carefully wrapped gift in her hands and walking closer to Regina. She’s smiling, so Regina smiles, too.

“Happy belated birthday,” Janis tells her, handing her the gift. It takes a few seconds for Regina to actually grab it, taken aback by the sentiment. It’s a box, so Regina can’t tell what it is just by touching it, and she wants to open it right away, but Janis puts a hand over hers and shakes her head. “Later, okay?” She asks.

“Later,” Regina agrees. (She can tell even now that it’s going to be hard to say no to Janis, but she knows she’ll try anyway.)

Janis leans in and kisses her lips, and Regina almost drops the gift from her hands but gets a handle of herself and holds it tighter instead. It’s the only thing between them, stopping them from losing themselves completely.

It’s Regina who parts away from Janis, opening her eyes begrudgingly. “We should probably get back outside,” she suggests. Before she even finishes, Janis is already on her way out, so she stops her. “Hey,” she starts, waiting for Janis to turn around before continuing. “Thank you.”

She motions with the gift in her hand, but she doesn’t really mean for that. It’s thoughtful and everything, but it’s likely nothing special. What Regina is thankful for is that Janis has brought her back to where her life should lead, however unplanned that was.

Janis nods and murmurs a, “You’re welcome,” before going outside. Regina follows after she leaves the gift in her bedroom.

     -  -

Regina opens the gift long after everyone’s gone. They help clean up but eventually leave her alone. She offers Janis to stick around, but Janis says she’s tired, so Regina doesn’t push. Even still, she doesn’t open the gift right away.

Yes, she’s _dying_ to; but she also has dishes to do, and things to tidy up before her mother comes home, and she’s avoiding it with all that she has. She just doesn’t know _why_. She can’t avoid it when she enters her room and sees the gift on her bed, waiting for her.

Not letting herself overthink it anymore, Regina takes careful steps towards the bed and sits down. She takes in a deep breath, and then unlaces the ribbon. When she opens the box, she discards the lid to the side.

There’s two painting inside it – the one on top is smaller, though they’re both not too large. Regina takes the first one in her hands, and recognizes the view from Janis’ window, but this isn’t the same picture Janis was painting the day she slept over, because the canvas is not as big.

The rest of the painting is her in bed, lying on her stomach sleeping. She stares at it for what feels like hours but is actually mere minutes until she snaps out of it. There’s a single tear sliding down her cheek, and Regina’s not sure exactly why.

She doesn’t feel sad – she’s _happy_. She’s happier than she’s been in years, and it’s not supposed to end in tears.

The other painting lacks the technique the first one obviously has, but seems somehow more genuine. Maybe that’s just what’s in the picture: their park.

There’s no note in the box, and for a bit Regina thinks there’s none at all until she flips over the second picture. The handwriting is undeniably Janis’, not neat enough but the effort can be noticed.

_For Regina, from her best friend xx_

The words are a little faded, and, Regina thinks, it may be from its age. She’s not sure why her breathing falters _now_ , but she knows what she feels – guilt. She thinks back to how Janis looked when she was giving her the present, hair wet from the pool, only in her bathing suit; smiling. Guilt is not what Janis wanted her to feel.

     -  -

It only takes a few minutes for Regina to give into the urge to go outside. She doesn’t know why, but she needs to get to the park. The paintings are left on the bed, to be put up somewhere on her wall later, but not forgotten.

She smiles before she’s even sure that Janis is the one sitting on the swing. “You kept a painting you made me for three years?”

It startles Janis, but Regina watches her get up and turn to face her. They both take steps to each other, until there’s no more to take and they barely have enough space to see each other. Underneath the moonlight and a distant street lamp, they can barely do that as is.

“Oh, y’know, I had a feeling some elaborate scheme might eventually get us reunited,” Janis shrugs, and they both laugh because there is no way either of them could have known what would happen in the years that followed Regina’s outburst.

“I used to think I couldn’t be happy and be with you,” Regina admits. She reaches out a hand, finds Janis’ and takes it. “I used to think I couldn’t be loved.”

“And now what you think?”

The way Janis tilts her head drives Regina mad. She lets the silence take over for a while, exhales softly and then leans in for a kiss. Her free hand moves to Janis’ cheek, and when she backs up, the hand stays there. “Now I’m ready to try and see if that might be a lie.”

     -  -

**Author's Note:**

> come let me know what you thought [on my tumblr](https://celiacarroll.tumblr.com). or just down in the comments!
> 
> i've also created a playlist to write to for this fic, you can find it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/8tvjbs4t893gax7zz3l800wax/playlist/548AvN1ZCstMrHs33WMWGf?si=n4F-YeSTRaSZ-pPYbV-PcA) if you're interested. (they're not all necessarily tied to the plot.) the title is partly from _crossing a line_ by mike shinoda.


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